A Short Bitter Relief
by willowwood
Summary: A brooding Anya reflects, and Spike listens.


**Title:** A Short Bitter Relief 

**Author:** willowwood  
  
**Rating:** PG-13  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from the shows Buffy the vampire slayer or Angel; they belong to the god Joss Whedon, Fox, UPN and the WB.  
  
**Dedication:** Ok so this story is dedicated to all the Buffy fans out there who love Spike/Anya, to everyone who is still upset over the death of our favourite ex-vengeance demon, and to all the fans that are still in shock over the news of Angel's cancellation. *wipes away tears*  
  
**Summary:** A brooding Anya reflects, and Spike listens.

**Spoilers:** Selfless, mostly and slight references to previous seasons.  
  
**Email:** willowwood@postmaster.co.uk

**A Short Bitter Relief**

Anya sat opposite the Magic Box, it's boarded up windows and abandoned state closely reflected the way that she currently felt. 

Alone, tired and beaten down.

The cold metal of the bench that she was occupying pressed firmly against her lower back and thighs making her acutely aware of the cold wind that enveloped her. She breathed out wrapping her arms across her chest in the hope that she'd warm up, even the slightest bit. Even though she refused to move from where she currently sat, believing that being alone outside was better than being alone indoors right now.

The only slight warmth she felt came from the tears that lead trails down her cheeks, forming little puddles where they fell onto her top. With a sigh she quickly moved to wipe them away, the brief thought of what she looked like passing through her mind if anybody was to walk past and see her.

She shook it off, knowing full well that nobody in there right mind would be wondering the streets of Sunnydale at this hour of the night, and even if they did, they wouldn't care what a mournful ex-demon was doing out on a bench crying her eyes up anyway, not unless they wanted to eat her of course.

Behind her she could hear the faint sound of footsteps, but she didn't dare move to acknowledge them hoping that whoever or whatever they belonged too would just ignore her and would continue on its way, as long as she didn't take any notice of them. 

She stilled, as the footsteps grew louder, closer. She held her breath silently praying that they'd leave her alone, simply pass her by. Suddenly the footsteps stopped and Anya found herself pinching her eyes tightly shut, attempting to sit even more still.

"Demon Girl" a familiar voice, cautiously called out to her after a moment. The breath she'd been holding was released in an annoyed sigh, and she slowly peeled her eyes open.

"I just want to be left alone" she whispered to her self, her red rimmed eyes threatening to let the tears fall once more, she sniffled willing them to stop, and fixed a firm, brave expression onto her face. The sound of footsteps once again, dismissed any thoughts of if she ignored him he'd go away from her mind, and out of the corner of her eye she could clearly see the unmistakable black leather of his jacket, blowing slightly in the strong wind.

"Demon Girl" he said again more forcefully this time, and Anya wondered whether his goal was to just be annoying, or whether or not he had actually not noticed that she was purposely ignoring his presence. 

She could feel his intense blue eyes focused on her and no matter how hard she tried she just couldn't ignore him anymore.

"Don't call me that" she eventually whispered, in reply. Not knowing what else to say to him and taking her cue from his less than, pleasant greeting. She wiped at her nose still continuing to stare across at the Magic Box opposite her.

She imagined his face to hold, a puzzled look of innocence not knowing what, if anything he'd done wrong and so she shuffled across to the other side of the bench.

A silent invitation for him to join her.

After a moment he took the proffered seat, leaning back in his seat he turned his head to watch her as though waiting for an explanation, for a long moment though neither of them said a word. Spike not knowing what was wrong, and Anya not willing to offer an explanation, not a simple one anyway.

Anya glanced around her, at the bare streets of Sunnydale, the odd car parked here and there, and the wind blowing in the trees as she wondered what to say to the vampire that sat next to her, and whether or not he actually even wanted to hear it. 

She eventually decided that he didn't appear to be in a rush to go anywhere, that whether he wanted to hear it or not she had to get it out to someone, and he was the closest victim, she pulled her arms around her a bit tighter.

"I used to be the best" she slowly began, breaking the silence that had fell between them.

"Men all over the world feared me, hell women worshipped me…..some even wanted to be me" she was growing more and more frustrated with each word, her tone growing higher, she dropped her hands down in to her lap defeated, not bothered if she caught her death out in the cold.

"Now look at me!!" she began once again, she dropped her head down, studying her hands that currently rested in her lap.

"I can't even hurt a fly without feeling guilty about it" she rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed with herself "And yet, there I was…..thinking that I could just tear out the hearts of a coupe of frat boys, all la di da like it was just another working day"

"Now I haven't even got the vengeance anymore, D'hoffryn sure saw to that……and what does that leave……an 1124 year old soul, trapped in the body of a 20 year old" she paused for a breath, having gotten worked up with the long sentences and her strong emotions "……..I can't even buy a friggin beer, it's just constantly I.D, I.D, I.D don't they realise that alcoholic induced bliss would really be of some use right now??" 

She wiped at her eyes once more, sniffing slightly, Pulling her head back up she could still see Spike studying her out of the corner of her eyes and then her gaze came to a stop on the Magic Box

"I don't even have that any more" she whined, flicking her wrist in the direction of the shop. For the first time, Spike pulled his gaze away from her as though noticing where they were sitting for the first time.

"And why don't I have it?" she asked, and both her and Spike new she wasn't expecting an answer "Because poor addicted Willow suddenly decided that she didn't like the world very much anymore and decided to start destroying it with my shop…..but of course once the major damage was done she had a change of heart…..how convenient" she rolled her eyes again, "Stupid Moron" she whispered to herself.

She stopped once again and for the briefest of moments she wondered if Spike was considering leaving, bored. Not that she'd blame him, can't exactly be entertaining listening to her rave on about things he probably didn't care about very much. 

The only problem was, was that she wasn't so sure she wanted to be left on her own anymore, after all ranting to yourself did seem a little pointless, compared to if it appeared as though you were talking to somebody else.

Even if they had no input in the conversation. With that brief thought she turned, to look at him slightly, wondering what was going through his mind. When he didn't move, she turned her gaze back to the magic box.

"And why did she stop?" she started again, but this time she paused for a moment giving Spike the opportunity to say something, when he didn't she answered her own question.

"Because Xander loved her, that's why….well of course that's a good enough reason to put a stop to world destruction as any. But he loved me too, and what good did that do huh? None" She stopped feeling the tears threaten to fall once more, taking a deep breath she willed them to stop, not wanting to become a blubbering mess in front of Spike.

"In fact all of this is Xanders fault" she suddenly began as though a bulb had lit up above her head, "After all if he hadn't of cheated on Cordelia with Willow, then I wouldn't have been summoned here by her need for vengeance, and then my talisman wouldn't have been broken by Giles and I wouldn't have been stuck here. Then I wouldn't have gone to the prom with him, or fell in love with him and he wouldn't have asked me to marry him, or left me at the altar and I wouldn't have gone back to vengeance, and I wouldn't have had sex with you" She finally stopped drawing in a much needed breath her mind racing, contemplating everything she had just said.

She again wiped her eyes, and a wistful smile appeared at the corners of her lips "I can still remember how terrible I felt that night" the smile turned more embarrassed as she added "I mean not cause of the sex, cause well that was amazing but cause of the look on Xanders face. He just looked so hurt and disappointed, and I was filled with this guilt which was surprising cause that was my vengeance I was supposed to want that look on his face it was what he deserved………wasn't it?"

"I don't think I even feel as guilty as that about Hallies death, and I didn't even want that to happen, after all it should have been me not her, I guess I felt as though I'd been cheated out of my own death than I did guilt at her being killed because of me" It felt as though the tears were pushing more forcefully now and she was desperate not to let them fall.  

"But it was him, who called the wedding off it was he who ultimately decided that I was to be single, and so didn't I have a right to be sleeping with who ever I wanted to sleep with, or was it you?? If it had been somebody else would he have felt so bad??"

She was startled by the sound of Spike clearing his voice " He's just dismissive off his girls sleeping with the undead" If it had been a normal occasion Anya guessed she'd have probably laughed at that comment, but at that precise moment she didn't really feel up to it.

As though automatically she leaned forward dropping, her head into her hands and slowly the tears started to fall.

"Buffy told me to get out of the basement, said it was killing me……." As suddenly as he had found his voice, Spike stopped mid sentence as his attention was quickly caught by the muffled sobs that racked Anyas slim form. 

Warily he moved his arm to place it across her shoulders, his movements slow and calculated as though worried that if he moved to quickly he might break her. Eventually his arm came to rest across her back, shocked Anyas face turned to look at him and seeing nothing more than pure concern in his features she moved closer to him quickly burying her head in the crook of his shoulder, he wrapped his other arm across the front of her pulling her into a tight embrace.

And there in the early hours of Sunnydale, California Anya no longer cared what she looked like to anybody that may have walked past, as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, she simply revelled in the smell of cigarette smoke and leather that evaded her senses. 

One ex-demon and one newly souled demon finding comfort in each other.

**The End**


End file.
